The Band's Called
by Charon the Sabercat
Summary: Swerve eased off the sitcoms after Swearth and instead got really into Behind the Music and K-ON. The Lost Light has a band on its hands now. All they need is a name. And musicians, that would be a good start. And a drum set instead of a table from the bar. Set in an idealized Lost Light where nothing bad happens and everyone's alive.
1. The Band's Called Starting Up

The Band's Called...

Disclaimer: I own nothing mentioned in this fic. Note that this takes place in a calm, idealized version of the Lost Light with no risk of death and only a vague sense of continuity.

* * *

"Skids! You gotta watch this, this is the big concert! You can't miss it!"

Skids did look up from his drink at Swerve's delighted request, but only to placate him. He'd gotten tired of the Music Movies marathon about an hour in, and he was only really staying for the smile on Swerve's face.

Swerve hadn't gotten this into any Earth media since the Swearth incident. It seemed like he'd finally lost the flinch, although his love of sitcoms still hadn't fully recovered. Instead, it had migrated into cartoons and, this last month, musicals. It had started with musicals, at least, and migrated into cartoons about music, then cartoons about bands, then documentaries about actual bands. It got him organizing Movie Night again and filling his bar with noise and bots and business. It got Skids out into the middle of the Lost Light, connecting with friends and keeping the guilt out of his head. It brought a smile to his face again after being in a funk for so long, and if Swerve was smiling, then Skids could sit through another Beatles movie or two.

It wasn't a Beatles movie this time, he realized. He must have tuned out for a long while It was back on cartoons, with this one being an assemblage of humans playing on a stage while all facing each other. From what he knew about musical equipment, they should have been blasting feedback into the crowd. Instead, they 'rocked out hard', and Skids faintly smiled. Good on them for having fun. A little check over his shoulder saw that Swerve was glowing with the kind of pride that meant he saw himself up on that stage instead of them. It warmed his spark. Good on you, Swerve.

With Swerve's attention back on the projector screen, Skids let his attention wander. Most of the crowd wasn't actively paying attention to the screen. They were lost in their conversations with friends, sipping drinks, and in Brainstorm's case playing board games in the corner with most of the science division.

"Look, look, here's the gag!"

The gag was the leader of the band flopping over and exposing their undercarriage. There were a lot of those gags in band cartoons. Swerve laughed as the screen cut to a shot of food in a striped bowl. "See?! Get it, 'cause censorship!"

"Uh... sure, Swerve," Skids bluffed. "But I figured that was obvious."

"Oh! Yeah, right, BUT it's still great, right?! 'Cause that's only in the TV adaptation and not the original-" Swerve's attention was suddenly fully on him. "SKIDS. We gotta go to a theme park!"

He nearly spit into his glass laughing. "What?"

"A theme park! They always go to theme parks in these shows, but they don't! They always spend the episode with the one character that didn't go so they don't have to animate the park. But WE should go! It'll be amazing!"

Skids could feel his smile getting wry. "Oh yeah, to any one of the Cybertronian compatible-sized theme parks dusted all over the galaxy."

Swerve's smile twitched as reality set in, after a split second, Skids felt guilty. He extended a hand. "I mean, we should go on shore leave together, sure, but realistically."

"But you don't make memories by being realistic, Skids buddy!" The smile bounced right back and Swerve caught his hand in a grip. "You get it by taking risks and doing things that don't make sense! That's every Behind the Music we've watched!"

"What does Behind the Music have to do with theme parks?"

"Come on, Skids, work with me here!"

"I'm just saying, your argument's a little askew here."

"At least the theme park's a reasonable goal! We could just go to a theme park!" Swerve twitched to attention; someone was calling for a refill. He hopped away from the table. "You have to learn to play something to be in a band!"

You have to build a theme park before you can go to one, Skids thought a little later. The band seemed like the more reasonable goal at this point. His optics focused back on the screen, watching carefully-crafted animated fingers dancing up and down the neck of a guitar. That didn't look so bad. It was a simple algorithm of finger placement determining the note played by striking the string. He was already getting a sense for how guitars worked just by glutting on music media along with Swerve.

He was getting an idea. If Swerve brought up the idea of theme parks again... well, first thing first. You had to build a guitar before you learned how to play it.

The next week rolled around, and Skids was a little delighted to see Swerve waiting for him at his usual table, with all his drinks and snacks laid out. Sure, he was late and he should apologize, but seeing that he was wanted and well-known made him feel like a Prime. It was doubly worth it to see Swerve's lips twist in confusion and then split into a beaming grin at spotting the guitar thrown over his shoulder.

"Skids! SKIDS!"

"Thus proving that starting a band is actually easier than us going to a theme park. Look." He swung the guitar down into his lap and balanced it over his leg. He went with an electric, easier and more slim than trying to make a full-scale metal acoustic. The body was a utilitarian rectangle with only a little dip in one side so he could rest it on his leg. The tuners were all different sizes and the strings different colors, but he'd made it and practiced on it himself. It worked, and it sounded fine. Enough to make his point. "The 'Serenade to Letting Swerve Down Easy'."

"Oh goodness! What's that?" Tailgate's little head popped over the other side of the table. "Is that a guitar?"

"Skids ordered a guitar!" Swerve gushed. "Just to play it for me!"

"Ordered, nothing! I built this thing from scraps!" Skids corrected.

Swerve echoed. "In a cave!"

Tailgate, oblivious, swooned in delight. "Really?!"

Skids laughed. "No, Tailgate, he's quoting a movie."

Tailgate playfully pushed Swerve's shoulder as the bartender guffawed. "You're always quoting a movie!"

As with any time someone held Tailgate's attention for too long, Cyclonus emerged from out of the crowd and took up silent vigil behind the little mini. Skids sighed and leaned back in his chair. He'd intended to only play for Swerve, but a crowd of three wasn't too bad. He pressed down the little nervous tickle at the top of his tank. "Okay, take two. This is called 'Swerve Sets Unrealistic Goals'."

"Hey, come on..."

He dropped into the quickest guitar thing he knew, one of the first he learned: "Dust in the Wind". He liked playing it, it flexed both his hands in interesting ways and felt good just to do.

He played it for about two seconds before Cyclonus raised a hand. "You're rushing."

He slapped down on the strings to quiet them. "What?"

"It's true, your tempo's off," Tailgate corrected.

"You see that all the time in concerts," Swerve added. "The guitarist always motors through the intro until the drums come in and reign him back with the-"

"Well excuse me for not being a consummate professional!" Skids defensively snapped. "Mr. Superlearner-Only-Got-All-The-Chords-Down-Yesterday."

"You just need the time kept for you!" Tailgate climbed into a chair and made a fist just above the tabletop. "Okay, how fast does the song normally go?"

"It- I- agh-" Skids sighed. "Okay. One two three four one two-"

He kept going until Tailgate started tapping the beat on the table. He started playing once he felt like Tailgate was in the right groove... and damn it, yeah, he'd been fast. He could play it much better now without having to knock his heel against the floor to keep the rhythm. He could just focus on the strings and the sound they made plunking against his metal hands. Guitar was a charming instrument.

"Oh primus on a pogo stick in the pit this is amazing!" Swerve gushed all over again. "Look at this! We have musicians!"

"We do?" Tailgate's head checked the room, still keeping the beat. "Where's the other one?"

"You!" Swerve's body couldn't contain the mounting joy. His fists clenched and his optics started to shine so bright the light bled through his visor. "A drummer and a guitarist! The basis of rock! It's just like Weird Al Yankovic but without the accordion!"

Skids could feel the grip of Shenanigans Incoming closing around his spark, and his fingers fumbled on the strings. "Swerve, don't-"

"This! This is our realistic goal! We could totally make this happen!" Swerve gripped the tabletop. "Everybody meet me in my room when the bar closes! We're gonna start a band!"


	2. The Band's Called Growing Bigger

The Band's Called...

Disclaimer: Same as the last chapter.

* * *

Swerve's room was cozy now that there were so many people crammed into it. Skids was delighted by the fact.

Swerve had almost nothing in the space. It was cleaner than Swerve himself would ever make it himself, so he suspected Ultra Magnus had something to do with it. It made for easy cramming into. Tailgate, Skids, Cyclonus, and Skid's guitar fit easily on the two beds while Swerve stood on a chair and set up the projector screen. He'd brought them snacks and drinks, leftovers from the bar, still a little warm from the transporting and lighting the room like fairy lights scattered on every horizontal surface. Tailgate hiccuped. Cyclonus patted his back. Skids plucked at his guitar. He could get used to this.

The project lit up from behind, backlighting Swerve in the dark. "All right! We're getting the band together!"

"So soon?" Tailgate chirped. "Did we vote on this?"

"No need to vote! It's fate! I can feel it in my spark!" Swerve gesticulated hard enough to nearly throw himself off his chair. "We have strings! We have drums! We have... uh... Cyclonus."

Cyclonus huffed. "I'm not participating."

"Frankly, I wasn't gonna ask you to. But whatever! That's not important!"

Tailgate huffed. "Hey..."

Swerve's smile twitched. "Because every band needs fans, and Tailgate, nobody's a bigger fan of you than Cyclonus!"

Crisis averted. Skids laughed at the pair of them blushing hard enough to warp their EM fields, Tailgate's matched with an elated squeal and Cyclonus averting his gaze. Swerve pumped his fist in victory. Swerve flipped through a slide or two of blank white before landing on a still screen of something in English. "All right, if we're gonna do this, we'll do it by the book! We're following the Behind the Music formula!"

"I thought that was the Weird Al formula," Skids asked.

"No! If anything, Weird Al is the exception to the formula. NO, we're on it solid right now!" Swerve clicked to the next screen, and this time, Skids tried to actually pay attention and read it. There was no need. Swerve had a pointer stick and outlined it bit by bit. "We're on Step 1; the meeting of the two original band members who eventually have a big fight and break the band up-"

Tailgate squealed again, this time in horror, and Skids stepped in. "Woah, okay, Swerve, let's not go down the bad route already. We're not even a band yet and you're already talking about us breaking up? You're going to scare Tailgate."

Tailgate whimpered. "He already did!"

"Um... right! My bad." Swerve skipped to the next slide. "Now we gotta make a quick progression onto Step 2. Now, I've flowcharted it-"

Cyclonus's hand met his head so hard it echoed.

"-and normally there's at least one band member who's so deep in emotional turmoil that they cause a rift and break up the band!"

Tailgate squealed yet again. Skids leaned forward. This was getting ridiculous. "Swerve!"

"But we don't have that guy!" Swerve kept on and louder, talking over Skids. "Usually it's one of the startup members, but Tailgate's such a sweetie he wouldn't hurt a scraplet and Skids is practically a superhero. So we don't have that problem!"

Skids sat back down, weirdly humbled and flattered. Tailgate's beaming smile must have meant the same thing. "Okay good."

"Which means we're missing a band member."

The feeling was gone. "Swerve!"

Cyclonus growled. "This is pointless."

"I just need you guys to help me brainstorm, is all! In the verb sense, not the actual bot sense." The next slide clicked into place, and Swerve went down the list line by line. "We need to find someone with emotional issues, a need for purpose in their life, undiscovered musical talent, and a lot of free time!"

"All right, this has gone far enough." Skids leveled with Swerve as gently as he could. "I know you're in love with this idea, but we can't just slot real people into these weird stereotypes you've gleaned from watching too much Earth media. If we're going to actually play in a band and do music together, we should enjoy the people we have, not look for people that we think we should have."

"But the formula!" Swerve argued. "That's Behind the Music down to the episode summary!"

"We're not Behind the Music!"

"I mean I am," Tailgate added. "I can get behind any idea as long as it's not too cruel."

"Tailgate that's not- nevermind. Can we just do this without a flowchart?" Skids suggested. "Something a little more organic?"

"But we're-"

"I know we're not literally organic, Swerve. Now you're just being glib."

Swerve smirked. "You got me."

Hopefully this would just be one ridiculous night out of a quiet, boring year. It had to be. Skids' hydraulics pressure was going up and down with the stress of this conversation already. He felt safe enough to settle back onto his bed- this might have been Swerve's bed he wasn't sure- but made sure to talk off his guitar for quick exits. Who knew what was coming up on that ridiculous flowchart?

"Oh!" Swerve snapped his fingers. "That wouldn't have worked anyway. I forgot, the guy has to have a substance abuse problem too, and I don't know anyone wi-"

He locked into place.

Cyclonus sighed. "He has crashed his systems from sheer stupidity. We can escape now."

"Cyclonus that's mean!" Tailgate stood up on the bed. "He might still be able to hear us."

Swerve's unsure expression split into that wide, dangerous smile. "TRAILCUTTER!"

The pieces did not immediately click, but when they did, they clicked together loud and crashed onto the rest of the room like a megaton of Megatrons. Everyone jumped up at once, all spouting some version of "Swerve don't, not to Trailcutter, don't you dare-" before Swerve transformed and drove full speed out the door.

"Cyclonus, go right! Tailgate, with me and split off at the elevator!" Skids commanded. "Don't let him get to Trailcutter!"

The scrambled out in a flash, immediately pinging everyone they knew to point them at Trailcutter and to not tell Magnus, no questions, just do it. Skids HUD filled with bots responding that they hadn't seen Trailcutter, or if they had then where, and then everyone he hadn't pinged asking him why Cyclonus and Tailgate were asking where Trailcutter was. They searched for a few long minutes before their paths converged in a single hallway with Trailcutter at the end and Swerve right in front of him. They were too late! Swerve would crush his spark with talk like his! How could they-?

"-thinking of starting a band, and we need another member!" Swerve asked the dark mech. "Do you wanna join us?"

Trailcutter only gasped and dashed back into the door behind him. It must have been his room. Swerve wilted. "A 'no' would've been fine."

"What did you say to him?!" Skids barked.

Swerve jolted and whipped around to face them. "I didn't say anything to him! I just asked if he wanted to join the band! That's all I said!"

"Is that true?!" Flanked by Cyclonus and Tailgate, Skids felt big and important enough to really lay it on the mini. "No talk about how you need him to be the token emotionally unstable group member with a substance abuse problem?"

"N-no!" Swerve gulped. "If I had said that, then he would've refused right off the bat!"

"So it's okay to talk about him like that when he's not looking?"

Swerve crumpled. "You make it sound terrible when you put it like that..."

"Because it is!" Tailgate piped.

"Do you see why we're mad, Swerve?" Skids put his foot down hard. "We're not little paperdolls like your cartoon characters to slot into your little perfect fantasy band! You don't get to put us in categories based on what you want us to be for your own ends-" The parallels snapped into place in his head so hard he choked on his own words. "Do you know who you sound like right now?!"

"Oh jeeze..." Swerve swallowed hard. "I uh... I-I wasn't thinking about it that way, but now that you say it... I-I'm sorry."

Skids searched Swerve's face, scanned his EM field, and found him genuine. His anger abated breath by breath, and on either side of him he could feel Cyclonus and Tailgate cycling down.

"Let's go, Tailgate."

"I-I was really excited about being in a band, too," Tailgate cooed.

"I still want there to be a band!" Swerve yelped. "I-I'm really sorry! It'll be fun and amazing, I know it! I-I'll just let you guys decide! Throw out the whole flowchart and let it come together naturally! Please, please give me another shot!"

"I found it!"

Trailcutter stepped out of his room, grinning ear to ear and holding something almost taller than himself. "I-I had to make sure I still had it before I said yes! I-I was dumbstruck! A real band! I haven't played since before the war, but- but look!"

Setting the device against his shoulder, Trailcutter tapped against its long neck and caressed its strings. A stand-up bass, a standard but well-maintained electric one, soon found its tune and buzzed out a strong base line while Trailcutter found his fingers again.

"See?! S-so do I get the part?" Trailcutter smiled wide.

That couldn't have been... Trailcutter played bass. Did Swerve's stupid formula actually lead them to a bass player?

Why was everyone looking at him specifically? Skids cleared his throat. "W-well, Swerve's actually the one organizing most of this. I-I pass the reins to you. Swerve?"

Swerve's body language unfolded from hopefully terrified to blossoming out in joy. He really was taking this seriously, wasn't he? He was honest to Primus excited, and that energy was starting to echo out into the usually dour and quiet Trailcutter. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the truck sincerely smile, sober or overcharged.

"We're gonna be amazing!" Swerve. "Meet me at my room! I-In about five minutes. I... think I left the projector on."


	3. The Band's Called Sponsored

The Band's Called...

Disclaimer: Same.

* * *

"Can you make it go 'myeooomeedlymeedly'?"

"Please?" Skids set his guitar. "Calling me an amateur."

Band practice had kept up for two weeks, once every two or three nights, depending on whatever was happening on the ship. They all met in Swerve's room, which was turning into an increasingly tight fit. Cyclonus and Tailgate kept to one end of the room while Trailcutter and Skids shared the other, with Swerve bouncing back and forth between them putting music videos on and asking if they could do the things the humans were doing onscreen. They kept it up for two sessions before a knock on their door. Rewind heard them.

The room soon had to accommodate Rewind and Chromedome, who came to document the noises and stayed to document the band. Swerve had such a freak out about having their own documentary that he had to leave the room and pace the hallway for a couple of minutes. It was a solid 9 laps of "Our own Behind the Music! We need a narrator! We need a discography!" before Skids pulled him back into his own room and made him focus on the music they actually played.

Two weeks of band practice later, one complaint had never gone away.

"Your notes are slipping."

"I know my notes are slipping!" Skids growled. "Lemme start over!"

"That's so strange..." Rewind tapped his ear, checking playback footage in his head. "You had it down pat an hour ago."

"I know I did! I played it, it- hang on."

"This happens sometimes!" Swerve explained in a rush. "Humans have to practice hours upon hours to develop the muscle memory that lets them play and sing at the same time, or they have to have a dedicated singer, or they have to-"

Trailcutter gasped. "Don't say it!"

Swerve growled. " _Tune to a chord._ "

"I am not tuning to a chord!" Skids roared. "I have my pride!"

"Maybe we just need a singer!" Tailgate suggested. "That's not so bad, right? Cyclonus, would you-"

Cyclonus glared hard enough to red the room red.

"Nevermind!"

Chromedome nestled down next to Rewind. "'Their career off to an amazing start, the band hit a sudden snag at the realization that their lead singer couldn't sing'-"

"Nobody is- I did not consent to being the lead singer!" Skids howled. "That was Swerve's idea!"

"Nobody else can do it!" Swerve explained. "And we can't get anybody else! I can't fit any more people in my room!"

Cyclonus scoffed. "We could just get a larger room."

"Everybody else's rooms are full of their... lives!" Swerve countered. "Where are are we gonna get practice space? What do you want to do, requisition a band room from Mags?"

The door flew open, filling with red and orange. Rodimus sang, warbly and offkey, "Did someone say Captain Rodimuuus?"

Tailgate swooned. Trailcutter dipped as far out of the way as he could, which still didn't leave him and his bass with much space. "Rodimus!"

Swerve pointed accusingly. "You failed your audition."

"Ffff, I know! I can't carry a tune in my subspace!" Rodimus bragged, and only he could make self-deprication sound like showboating. "I just came to visit! I can't believe you all practice in a hab suite! And you still sound as good as you do? That's amazing! Rodimus Stars all around!"

The room rumbled, mostly with the sound of Trailcutter's unsteady "REALLY?" and Skids being very, vocally, confused.

"Hold on, wait, no," Skids stopped the murmurs. "What are you talking about? Where have you heard us play?"

Rewind tapped his head. "Posted it."

Swerve yelped. "Rewind! We've never played a song together!"

"You haven't?!" Now it was Rodimus's turn to be surprised. "Then what have I been listening to? I have your cover of 'Rock and Roll Hoochie-Coo' downloaded to my personal hard drive!"

Chromedome raised his hand. "I actually put that together in post."

"We have a 'post'?!" Swerve practically screamed. "Why didn't you TELL me?! We could have put an album out by now!"

"All right, stop! STOP! One at a time!" Rodimus strode into the room. It was so cramped, he could only stride about one step, and standing inside put Trailcutter just a little bit away from him. "Skids explain the- Trailcutter you reek of high grade."

"Sorry."

"Skids explain this- this whole setup. With the band."

"Oh, I- uh-" He checked over his shoulder to Swerve, who just shrugged and waved him to go ahead. "W-we just started playing a couple weeks ago and... here we are. In Swerve's room."

"Brilliant. Masterful storyteller. Here's MY side!" said Rodimus. "I love your stuff! Even if it's all Chromedome's editing."

Swerve huffed.

"I wanna sponsor you guys with a bigger room!"

Rodimus said something, Skids was sure, but he couldn't hear it over everyone else suddenly jumping up and cheering and rushing him. Swerve and Rodimus both had to holler for everyone to calm down so he could keep talking.

"BUT I want you guys to play LIVE!" Rodimus finished. "Otherwise I can't guarantee anything! Is that doable?"

"Could we really?" gasped Tailgate. He'd practically scaled Cyclonus in a joyful fit. "Play for real in front of everybody?!"

Swerve beamed. "Are you kidding?! This is what we've been practicing for!"

Rewind checked his playback. "I have about 57 minutes of footage that says you've been practicing for fun."

Swerve cocked out a smug hip. "We'll have Chromedome edit that out in post!"

"That's the spirit!" Rodimus cheered. "Rewrite that history!"

Skids spoke across the room to Cyclonus. "I feel like somewhere this got really out of hand."

"I agree. It was the moment this ridiculous exercise began."

Swerve stomped his foot. "We accept!"

"COOL! Mags is gonna hate this paperwork and I'm going to make him do it anyway!" Rodimus cheered. "So, what's the name of your band?"

Trailcutter jumped for joy. "Oh! I've have ideas for that! I- uAH-"

One jump came down just slightly wrong, and Trailcutter's foot bent under him and he went sprawling backwards out the door, bass lying across his belly.

Swerve didn't miss a beat. "The band's called 'Teebs Fell Down'."

"No it isn't!" Skids shouted. "Ignore him. We'll think of one."

"Well, get to it!" Rodimus encouraged. "I want to hear you all sounding professional, and fast!"

"All right!" Swerve's fist met his open palm. "Meet us in the band room tomorrow night!"

"Wait, tomorrow?" Rodimus stopped, halfway out the door already. "Why tomorrow?"

"Because we're holding auditions for a singer!"


	4. The Band's Called Booked

The Band's Called

Disclaimer: Same.

* * *

They opened the band room to a drum kit. Tailgate screamed and hugged it. It was taller than him.

A quick call to Rodimus got him a booster chair and pedal extenders for small legs. Swerve and Tailgate both hugged it.

Skids noticed that the cymbals were Rodimus Stars.

Everybody took turns crashing the cymbals, Cyclonus included, until Rodimus showed up an hour late with an energon toddy. "Good morning, everybody!"

Tailgate mumbled, "It's past noon."

"Who's ready to live audition?"

At that, Tailgate bounced. "OH! Yes, me! I've been looking forward to it all day! I practiced!"

"How do you practice?" Rodimus grabbed the closest chair, moving Swerve's drink out of it to sit down. "I'm pretty sure that's the only drum kit on the ship."

"I played Swerve's night stand!" Tailgate bragged. "And before that, it was a table in the bar!"

"How wonderfully low-tech!" Rodimus took a swig. "Any luck finding a band name?"

Skids was about to admit that he hadn't thought about it much, and the silence around him meant no one else had either, but Swerve was already jumping forward. "The band's called 'Tailgate Bangs the Table'!"

"What?!" Tailgate cried. "No it isn't!"

Rewind checked off an invisible list, making Chromedome giggle. "Failed attempt to name the band number two."

"Cameramen aren't supposed to crack wise!" Swerve commanded. "Everybody, places! People are gonna start arriving any minute now, and we have to be tuned up! Cyclonus, you wanna help put up the amps?"

Cyclonus pulled away from his drink. "No."

"Got it! Doin' it myself then."

"This is going to be a treat." Rodimus kicked his feet up onto the stage. "Let the free entertainment begin!"

It was slow, at first. Audition times rolled around, and their first and only entrant was Rung. He smiled and greeted everyone, made some small talk, and complimented Trailcutter on connecting with his crewmates through his love of music. He hadn't come to audition, even, he only agreed to a "live kareoke" after Swerve put the offer on the table. Skids had them cheat a way through "Sweet Dreams Are Made of This" and a rather threadbare "Night Fever" before Chromedome stopped them.

"You're sounding a little hollow now that we're not in Swerve's room."

"Oh gee," Skids said, deadpan. "I never would have guessed we lacked a full wall of sound from one guitar and a stand-up bass and a minibot banging on a night stand."

"I'm just saying, it sounded better when you could feel it, you know?" Chromedome stood up and hurried away. "I'll be right back, love, I need to get something out of the room!"

Trailcutter politely pulled his bulk out of the way of an outgoing Chromedome. "I-I don't quite understand what he's talking about?"

Rewind thought a minute on it. "I think he's more used to listening to all your tracks put together on the editing board than he is to hearing it live."

"We have a band room, a real drum set, a sponsor, AND a sound mixer!" Swerve made a primal pleased noise deep in his throat. "This is amazing! And I didn't even know!"

"Is Chromedome in the habit of editing music without the musician's permission?" Swerve asked.

Rewind shyly tucked a hand behind his head. "I didn't really think about it at the time. He was just so excited to have a project, and frankly, he was in kind of a slump... This really pulled him out of it."

"I uh." Trailcutter's fingers wrung the neck of his base. "I can relate to that. Having something to do at night instead of go to Swerve's- no offense Swerve."

"Hey, it's okay," soothed Swerve. "The bar's my job, but having you guys there after is something to look forward to, y'know? I haven't had this much fun in- in... wow."

Skids fingers twitched against the strings. Rung was still there, watching them all with intense optics. Even Cyclonus seemed strangely invested in the words, not letting his gaze fall from their little group. It was theirs, wasn't it? This little band they'd made their own, and all because he'd decided to shoot down one of Swerve's ideas with style. Who knew something this neat could come out of playful spite?

Chromedome came back with an editing board about as big as Tailgate, both width and height-wise. He spread it out on a stand just behind Trailcutter and hooked it into an amplifier.

"All right, play me the jangly part of 'Dry County', then you play the 'booow papa-papoow' part-"

With a sampling board, they were ready. Chromedome had parts recorded from every session Rewind was present for, and with a little tweaking and a minute to prepare, he had them on a playback loop in time with Tailgate's drumming and in the same key as whatever they needed to play.

Auditioners came in bot by bot, ready for their shot at very very small-time stardom. Some of them had ideas. Inferno nearly broke out into Crazy World of Arthur Brown-style "Fire", fire and all, before Red Alert rushed him off the stage with a fire extinguisher. Mirage sang "Mr. Cellophane" so quietly the band basically played over him. Whirl sang "Bat Out of Hell" with a fervor that rivaled Unicron and finished off his audition by jumping on Rodimus's head. The band would have hired him on the spot if Rodimus hadn't wrestled him out of the band room. Ambulon was maybe the best shoe-in for the position with his soulful "Sexual Healing" before admitting he'd only done it on a dare. He walked out a couple hundred shannix richer. Swerve was verbally irked.

"Come oooon! Why don't we have more auditioners! We're the best band on the Lost Light!"

Tailgate piped up. "We-"

"I know we're the only band Tailgate!"

Tailgate continued. "- should have advertised more."

"... oh."

Rodimus woke up just enough to lean his chair back. Mirage had stayed to watch the auditions roll by after his own, and he'd taken a perch next to Rodimus. "Eh, give it a week. Maybe people are gun shy."

Trailcutter quietly tucked his bass back into its case, lending a shoulder for Tailgate to lean on as he rested. "But you wanted us to start playing live, and soon."

"Oh, a lack of a singer is hardly a reason to not play live," said Mirage. "I found your playing wonderful even without vocal accompaniment. Trailcutter plays a beautiful bass."

"He is, isn't he?" Trailcutter gave the case a little hug. "He's lasted me so long and never lost his tone."

Mirage chuckled, the picture of grace. "I meant figuratively. Oh, I have an idea!" He stood to his feet and waved over the band members: Skids, Trailcutter, Tailgate, and Chromedome. "I want to hire you to play at Visages next poetry night, tomorrow."

"Really?" Skids asked, surprised and already excited. "Wow! A real gig!"

"We get to play live!" Tailgate cheered. "We're gonna earn our Rodimus Stars!"

"Good for you guys!" Chromedome congratulated.

Trailcutter caught him up in a one-armed hug. "Good for you too! We wouldn't have sounded that good if you hadn't brought the mixing board! You're part of the band now!"

"I-I am?!"

Rewind gushed to the side. "Good job, Domey!"

"H-hey, wait a minute!" Swerve jumped in. "What are you doing? He's a business rival! Don't I get a say in this?"

Mirage stopped in thought, mildly surprised. "Why? You aren't part of the band."

Skids was struck with the kind of cold arrow of realization through the spark that he was getting uncomfortably familiar with, and it only double once he saw Swerve's spark break through his visor. He couldn't have been the only one that felt it. He could hear Tailgate whimpering behind him, and when Swerve backed out of the little circle, Trailcutter followed him. "Hey, Swerve, if you don't want us to-"

"Teebs!" Swerve turned on his heel, his usual smile back into place. Skids had the sinking feeling that his 'usual smile' wasn't as genuine as he once thought it was. "Come on! You heard the mech. I'm not in the band! You can't sacrifice a golden opportunity like this! Think of the publicity! What if your future singer's out there in the crowd at Visages?"

"But you'd be sad," Tailgate put it bluntly. "I-I don't want to do that to you. Would any of you?"

Skids clamped a hand down on Tailgate's shoulder. Every bad instinct he had was confirmed at the tight, unnatural tension under his fingers. "Swerve... if you're not okay with this..."

"... I-it's a little bit of a blow, yeah, but... you know what?" Swerve took his hand and squeezed it. "It's been amazing seeing the band grow, even if I'm not in it. You four are gonna go places at this rate... strike that iron! I-I'll see you guys after the set, right?"

Mirage cut in from outside the circle. "Visages closes three hours after your bar."

"Okay... maybe not right after the set. But it'll happen. And Rewind will have footage, right?"

Rewind gave a thumbs up.

"See? I-I'll be fine." Swerve stepped back and out of Skids' grip. "Eventually. Go out there and knock 'em dead! Me and Ten will hold down the fort until you get back."

Tailgate launched forward to hug him, and Skids was tempted to do the same. To think Swerve was proud of seeing the band grow. He could say the same of Swerve.


	5. The Band's Called Embarrassed

The Band's Called...

Disclaimer and notes: Not bad for a fic I wrote from beginning to now all in the same day. Let's see if I can keep the streak going. Also, same.

* * *

Visages was so dark compared to Swerve's. The lighting was cool and dim, and the black walls made everyone glow slightly blue by comparison. The bright Rodimus Star cymbals almost glared out in the light, and Tailgate dropping one only made it worse. Mirage was a sport about it, though, and helped them set up the best he could. Rewind had footage and he still didn't now how Mirage managed to put the high-hat on wrong-ways on both sides. Cyclonus and Rewind took themselves a spot just next to the stage, close but not directly in front.

Skids spark fluttered. A real stage in a real bar. A real gig. A real tiny one, true, but it was theirs. He wasn't used to looking at anyone but Tailgate when he played.

Mirage waved them all close to speak to them, quietly. "I'm going to advertise you on the sign outside the door. What do you call yourselves?"

"We uh..." Trailcutter's systems hummed. "We uh-"

Tailgate hushed him and took his hand. "Careful, Trailcutter, or you'll stress-bubble."

"We never actually decided on-" Skids stopped. His voice was getting unconsciously louder as he spoke, and optics were falling on him. He hushed himself. "Decided on a name. Swerve came up with a couple names, as a gag, but we never really put any thought into it."

Mirage's distaste for the fact showed on his face, but it wasn't particularly strong or disdainful. He just seemed disappointed. "I'll just put that we're featuring live music tonight. Do you have a set list?"

Chromedome tapped at the back of his neck. "What's a set list?"

Trailcutter's field generator clicked with the effort of suppressing a bubble. "Oh no that's what I forgot."

Tailgate whimpered. "Swerve usually just goes up to the projector and tells us what to play."

"We probably could've prepared a little more..."

Mirage put off Skids' worries with a wave. "I'll admit I put you all on the spot. I'll come back in a few minutes. Just keep in mind, we like to keep a certain atmosphere at Visages. Nothing too loud or up-tempo, or discordant, or short. Make a list and I'll put them up as the featured entertainment."

Mirage parted, and the band huddled. Within seconds, Cyclonus and Rewind tucked into the circle with them.

"Guys, what do we know how to play together?" Tailgate gasped. His visor started to pool and gloss with radiant energy, pooling at his cheeks in soulful tears. "Th-this feels so sudden! I-I went into powerdown convinced I was going to wake up out of a dream and none of this had happened-!"

"Ssh." Cyclonus held his shoulder. "We are here now. That is what matters. Focus."

"I-I know a little Dire Straits from practicing in my room?" Skids offered. "Anyone other than me like the Dire Straits?"

"I've been listening to Soul Coughing," said Trailcutter. "Which one's the Dire Straits?"

"They're the ones with the blocky music video Swerve showed us. Which one's Soul Coughing?"

"I-it's the one from the music videos made of the black and white cartoons that Swerve showed us!"

Tailgate admitted, "I don't listen to music unless I'm with you guys, or Cyclonus is teaching me a song."

Chromedome wrung his hands. "How are we bad at this before we've even started?"

Skids paused the huddle. Ten was sending him a picture. He projected it out for the band; Swerve and Ten had the projector going at the bar. Musical Movie Night was going, with Repo! Playing onscreen. Swerve's chubby face just peeked out from the corner and waved to the high-mounted camera. Ten must have been thinking of them.

They shared a collective deep breath.

"We're overcomplicating things. We can do this." Skids put his hand in the middle. "Chromedome, you have the samples on your board from the auditions yesterday, right?"

Chromedome put his long, thin fingers down on Skids' hand. Skids reflexively shivered. "They won't do us much good, unless I play them at .75 speed."

"Let's give that a shot. Just keep everything slow and follow Tailgate's drumming. I guess we'll stay off the snare and bass pedal tonight."

"Darn..." muttered Tailgate. "I like the snare." He still put his little hand on Skids'.

"This should work out perfectly for you, Trailcutter. Your instrument's made for this."

"I guess..." Trailcutter was big enough to cover all off their hands with room to spare, and he squeezed them all together. "We can do this."

Rewind hurriedly tapped Skids' leg. "Mirage is coming back! Make your list!"

"Oh frag-"

In the end, they took their places with no announcements and were never introduced. The first few tables around the stage stayed empty. Cyclonus actually went to the perimeter and checked for a force field. Nothing.

They played quietly. Tailgate barely tapped at the high-hat and Trailcutter's hands lingered lazily on his strings. It fit so well with the atmosphere at Visages, the quiet and the thoughtful air that meant a lot of tables with single guests, reading or sipping their drinks. It was so sleepy. Skids was getting tired and they'd barely started. He cast Cyclonus and Rewind a look. Cyclonus was powered down. Rewind gave him a noncommittal hand wiggle. That fun, huh?

Ten sent another picture. He checked the bar. No one was looking but Rewind.

With a jerk of his head, he got Trailcutter's attention. Chromedome and Tailgate leaned over to look as he projected the picture out. Disney Sing-A-Long night had the whole crowd presumably drunkenly chanting along with "Gaston" while Swerve collected empty cups. Chromedome and Tailgate both made little noises of approval while Trailcutter grinned. Swerve had a smile on his face, and if he was okay, then they would be okay.

Oh, but it was a long night. It was a long while to be paid no attention to, and after a scan or two of the bar, Mirage waved them down from the stage. They gathered around the mech.

"I thought the change of pace might stir up some excitement, but..." Mirage shrugged. "It seems like I had high expectations. If you'd like, I can send you all back early. I'll wire your payment into your accounts."

"Thanks for the opportunity, Mirage." Skids shook the offered hand. "It was a learning experience."

"For both of us?"

"Definitely."

They packed up and brought the instruments back to the band room to store, moving collectively and not breaking off when the final lock was set.

"Well... we have the whole rest of the night." Tailgate looked to Cyclonus. "Whatcha wanna do?"

Cyclonus didn't answer. Chromedome shrugged. "Maybe we could catch a movie at Swerve's?"

"I think it's been closed for..." Skids checked his internal clock. "About an hour."

Trailcutter wondered. "Maybe he's in his room and we could all watch a movie there?"

A trip to his door found it unlocked, but empty. It was odd; Skids could swear he could hear music playing. He checked with the rest. "I'm not going crazy, right? You hear, like, Swerve music?"

"Yeah, it's all..." Tailgate bounced in lieu of finding a word. "And-" He struck a fanciful pose. "-and dancy."

"It's not coming from the room," said Cyclonus.

"Telling me that would have been helpful before I opened his door." Skids closed it behind him. "Is it coming from someone else's?"

"It's not quiet. It's far." He pointed down the hallway. "The bar."

"Swerve's bar? But- wait." Skids HUD flooded with messages from Ten. From the look of everyone's hands going to their temples, they were getting the same thing. It wasn't a picture, and as was the case with Ten, there were no words. It was just an insistent ping that felt like "Come. Quickly." and over and over again. "Wow. Wait you don't think-"

"NO! No, i-if something bad happened to Swerve again-" Tailgate assured them. "They would've called First Aid first! That's why he's First Aid!"

"Then... I guess we're headed to Swerve's."

The walk felt long. Their feet dragged as they took in the unfamiliar music. Well, familiar in a way. They were pretty sure they'd heard this music somewhere before, in another movie night. It wasn't quite the same though. Maybe live? It kept being interrupted with little asides to the audience and loud, unexplainable bangs.

"Oh wait I do know this one!" Rewind piped up. "This is from the Goofy Movie! Remember, we had that at movie night and Rodimus air guitared through the whole song."

"It doesn't even have guitar through most of it," Chromedome chuckled.

The music was pounding through the doors of Swerve's. It was locked. Skid sent a quick ping to Ten, who unlocked it at lightning speed and pulled them all in bodily.

He remembered the next few seconds in slow motion. Rewind's hand snapped to his head and adjusted the mic on his camera. Trailcutter's jaw dropped. Skids optics scanned the bar looking for the source of music.

He landed on Swerve, dancing his way across the counter mess and belting his spark out into a shot glass. He roared the final note loud enough to fill the room on his own, its perfect tone shooting straight to Skids spark and reverbing it nearly into his throat.

Tailgate hollered. "GO SWERVE! WOOO!"

Cyclonus and Chromedome both applauded, and Skids stuttered out. "Swerve! That was amazing! Since when could you-"

That spark-chilling arrow shot into his chest again as Swerve finally spotted them, panicked, and transformed to speed past them back to his room.


	6. The Band's Called Whole

The Band's Called...

Disclaimer: My streak broke. Otherwise, same.

* * *

"SCREW YOU!"

"We're sorry!" Skids tried the door again to no avail. Swerve had locked his room tight behind him. He stepped back enough to talk into the door jamb, bumping into the rest of the group packed around his shoulders. "Please! Let us in!"

Tailgate spoke directly into the door jamb. "If you're still mad about us playing at Visages, we can tell you it was awful!"

"That's very satisfying but not why- who said you could come back early?!" Swerve shouted through the door. "I thought I was safe!"

Rewind was so happy his words were slurring. Skids suspected this was all going into the "documentary" in full, unedited glory. "This footage is going to be amazing."

"It's about to get better," Skids whispered. If Rewind wanted drama, then he was good at supplying it. Swerve lent himself well to causing it. Skids squared up his shoulders and set his feet. "Everybody get ready."

The others tensed, ready but not exactly sure what for. Tailgate and Chromedome just straightened their posture. Trailcutter backed away, biting his lip in confusion. Only Cyclonus actually stepped up, shoulders set, like he knew what Skids was thinking. Good! He couldn't voice his thoughts, not with Swerve listening. Plan in motion, he commed Rodimus and put the call on his external speakers.

"Captain Rodimus?"

Rodimus blasted through the speaker as if he knew he was being broadcast. "Skiiiids! How's it going? Heard Visages sucked."

"You heard right. Hey, Swerve's locked in his room, pop the lock for us?"

Swerve, inside, yelped. "WHAT?!"

"Sure thing! Bring him to the medbay if he's sick again."

"RODIMUS I'M NOT SICK LOCK THE-"

As soon as the door remotely clicked open, a feature added since the last time Swerve wound up in there, Skids and Cyclonus rushed in and scooped the minibot off his feet. Skids took the legs, Cyclonus the shoulders, and they marched back into the hall and immediately off to the band room.

Skids cheered over his shoulder. "Great teamwork, everybody!"

"Oh that's what you were planning to do!" Tailgate hopped along behind them. "I was expecting something different!"

"Put me down!" Swerve protested loud enough to turn a few heads in the hallway, but nobody dared step forward with Cyclonus on glare detail. "First you invade my room then you CARRY me?! You know how I feel about being carried, Skids! Your special bar table privileges are revoked! I'm giving your table to Pipes!"

Skids grinned. "Chromedome, you got the door?"

"I got it!" Chromedome skipped ahead of them and ran to get the band room unlocked. "I'll get the stage set up!"

Tailgate and Trailcutter hurried along after him. "Let's get the drums together!"

Skids said, "Cyclonus, you can put Swerve down now."

Cyclonus dropped him and Skids stumbled as a couple tons of minibot slammed into the backs of his legs.

"Okay maybe not that hard..." Skids hoisted Skids up onto his shoulders to carry him instead, give him a little more dignity. "So, sorry about the door, but I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"You wanted to humiliate me," Swerve moaned into his ear. Skids bemoaned that he couldn't see Swerve's face from this angle. "You're gonna make fun of me for being loud and excitable."

"Skids, we wouldn't do that."

"'Serenade to Setting Unrealistic Goals.'"

"I did that..." Skids sighed in defeat. "Specifically to make fun of you being loud and excitable..."

Skids stopped and put Swerve down, then knelt on the floor to meet him optic to optic. "Swerve, remember outside of Trailcutter's room? When I told you off for being a jerk?"

Swerve didn't look happy in the slightest. "Bringing up all kinds of pleasant memories today."

"Well this time, it's me!" Skids pleaded. "I'm the one being a jerk! I made fun of you for getting excited about something you were passionate for and then took off with it without you and... and I'm sorry if I made you feel bad for just liking things."

It nearly cracked Skids' spark to see Swerve's expression arguably getting worse, twisted in emotion and wary. The bot was watching him, checking to make sure he was sincere. It was that same look he gave on Swearth, when he hurt but didn't know where, when his spark was so deep in the dark that he couldn't even express his own pain. Guilt doubled down on Skids, and Cyclonus laid a clawed hand on Swerve's shoulder to keep him steady.

When Swerve spoke, it was quiet. "You're just saying that 'cause you heard..."

"NO it's not because I heard you singing!" Skids grappled Swerve's face and held it tight. "You should have seen us at Mirage's! We sucked! And not because nobody sang- it was because we had no set list, no idea what to play, we- we had no fun, Swerve! You are the one who got us all together! You make this fun! It took exactly one time not having you there to figure that out and we should have known it from the beginning!"

Swerve's little smile grew and grew, and his intakes stuttered and choked in withheld sobs the longer he talked. Skids could feel a balm starting to heal over his spark. "You believe me now?"

Swerve choked and swallowed. "I do."

Suddenly, behind them, forgotten in the background like a proper cameraman, Rewind piped up. "And if you ever forget, I recorded it all."

Swerve squealed in joy. "It's like the Leif Garrett episode!"

"Yeah! I have... no idea what that is." Skids laughed and stood up straight again. "Nice capturing of an emotionally vulnerable moment there, Rewind. Totally don't feel self-conscious about this getting posted to the ship without my permission."

Rewind patted his head. "I think this'll get directly mailed to you and Swerve alone."

Cyclonus only gave a wry little smirk. "We're holding up band practice."

They had a singer! He knew it, and it electrified Skids down to his core. "Come on! Let's go make some music!"

Skids took Swerve by the hand and pulled him all the way to the band room in full stride, aware of Swerve being swept up in his long steps but not trying to stop him. It almost looked like he was enjoying it. Cyclonus sure was, if his tiny evil smile was any indication. Rewind sprinted ahead to open the band room door ahead of them. "Everybody! The new lead singer's here!"

The band cheered, already at their places on the practice stage. Tailgate's drums and Chromedome's mixing board had been moved so they weren't crowding each other, and Skid's homemade guitar rested on the floor across from where Trailcutter stood with his bass.

"Welcome back, Swerve!" Trailcutter greeted him with a little fistbump. Skids noted that, still, Swerve had not let go of his hand. "Got a song in mind?"

"I-I- I don't know! I-I was singing 'Eye to Eye' with Ten, but we can't do that, not without a drum machine and a full keyboard." Swerve ran through the options on his free hand. "We could maybe do 'Love Makes the World Go Round' but we'd need three vocalists, and 'Is You Is or Is You Ain't My Baby' needs a full swing band, need-"

Trailcutter cut in with a loud "Um."

Tailgate broke the awkward. "I don't know any of those."

Chromedome raises his hand. "I think I do. Those are all from Cartoon Night a few months ago."

Skids shouldered his guitar over one arm. "Okay. Maybe a song that's not from a cartoon?"

The request almost pained Swerve. "Um... 'School of Rock'?"

"Maybe let's meet up in your room and watch some music videos for ideas."

Swerve glowed. "Music sleepover."

Cyclonus glowered. "No."

Tailgate bubbled up, "I'm in!"

Cyclonus glowered harder. "Just this once."

He still hadn't let go of Swerve's hand.


	7. The Band's Called Finished

The Band's Called...

Disclaimer: Last one. Same.

* * *

"All right! First gig! First real live show! I'm excited!" Swerve stepped out from behind the bar and whipped right back around after two steps. "I am freaking out Skids help me."

Skids shrugged. "It won't be that bad. You'll be fine."

"That doesn't help me at all!" Swerve hopped onto his secret bartender stepstool that put him at chest height to the bar. "Tailgate, you help me."

"U-um! Uh- W-we're all in this together?" Tailgate tried.

Swerve grinned wide. "See, Skids, that's how you do it."

Skids laughed. "Yeah, with Disney quotes. I should have guessed."

Chromedome laughed, and Cyclonus smiled, and Rewind was probably recording it, and that had been life. It had been the band for a month, hanging out in Swerve's room and the band room between shifts and leaving little trophies and tokens in the nooks and crannies of both spaces. It had been a lot of movies and Swerve pointing out "Can we learn this?" over and over again until they actually found something that worked with their setup. It had been unplugged jam sessions with the band sitting in a giant circle and watching each other, getting the feel for how they played. It had been about 330 temp band names. Most of them involved tables and night stands, at first, until the joke got old and then finally so old that it was no longer an old joke, it was a 'reference'. The reference solidified when Swerve painted "The Table" on Tailgate's bass drum in big black glyphs. It was a weird, but comfy state of being.

Skids had the struts to say they could play live, and here they were. It was like life had jumped them right to the gig. Time had gone so fast.

"It's trippy, isn't it?" Swerve whispered into his ear. "It's like an exposition dump."

Skids recoiled to scratch his ear. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"He's been spending time with Brainstorm again," Cyclonus explained. "He gets like that."

Swerve thumped the bar. "Gimme more!"

Tailgate flustered and stuttered until Trailcutter slipped in. "It'll be like when we played Visages, but better! Loads better! And we're gonna bring in a ton of business!"

"Right! I can do this!" Swerve hopped off his stepstool and out from the bar! "I canNOT do this!" and back he went. "They're all gonna laugh-"

Skids stood. "Cyclonus, get his shoulders."

"-at me NOT AGAIN YOU TALL GLITCHHEADS!" Swerve wailed through Cyclonus snatching him up by the arms.

Skids put the mini's legs over his shoulders. "We have a schedule to keep, Swerve!"

Away they went, Swerve cursing and kicking at Skids' head the entire five steps from the bar to the stage. Skids plopped him down, facing the audience, with a heavy thunk, and Cyclonus passed a microphone into his hands before he could realize what he was holding.

"NO more nightmare fuel for y- stage." Swerve locked up, seams and all. "Stage."

Skids took his spot on the stage, and yeah, now he could see where Swerve was coming from. They had the bar's immediate attention, a big change from Visages, and they were all standing close. Skids could teach out and pet Nautica on the head if he wanted to. He did want to; it felt like it would break the tension that was building in his tanks. Even with Cyclonus standing guard and Rewind perched on his shoulder for a good vantage point, he was feeling uneasy. He checked the band to see if they were feeling it too. Trailcutter was wringing the neck of his bass. Tailgate was shrinking to hide in his drum kit. Chromedome's fingers danced over his board, constantly sliding and fiddling with the audio mixers.

Swerve's gaze shot up to his, impressive with a visor and considering he was pretty well frozen in fear, and he whispered. "Skids you're glaring. Relax."

"You relax."

"Shut up I'm trying."

"Not you're not."

Rodimus cackled from the crowd. "Freebird!"

"A-ha!" Swerve bounced, dramatically pointing at Rodimus. "You think you can get us with that hackneyed heckle? Skids! Play Freebird."

Oh that was an easy one! They'd heard it as a tired old joke on enough TV shows to learn it in earnest. Skids only got as far as the first few measures before someone in the crowd dramatically wailed "NOOO NO SKYNARD!" and sent the rest of the audience into laughter.

Tailgate flinched. "Oh no, they hate it!"

"N-no no, I can work with this!" Swerve whispered. "I think they're laughing at Rodimus!"

Swerve owed the co-captain a free drink, as far as Skids was concerned. With the tension finally broken for good, the bartender cleared his throat into the mic and spoke up. "Welcome, everybody, to the first live music night at Swerve's! I'm Swerve, this is my bar, and we're the band!"

"'The Band'?" Inferno shouted. "I thought you were The Table!"

Swerve stepped aside just enough to tap the side of the bass drum. "No no, the drums are named 'The Table'."

"Then what's the band called?"

"We're called 'Bang-'" Swerve stuttered; the old band name had come out in the wrong order. "'Bang Tailgate on the Table'."

The patrons guffawed, and even over the din, he could hear Tailgate squeaking out a scandalized "What?! No it isn't!"

Skids followed Swerve's line of sight to a very still, very pissed off Cyclonus. Swerve kept talking. "You're right, it's called 'Cyclonus is Definitely Going to Kill Me Now'."

The laughter was so intense and room filling that it hurt Skids' audials.

"I-is this good?" Trailcutter asked.

"It looks good to me," said Chromedome. "It's not like they're laughing at us, they're laughing at Swerve."

"Quick, while they're distracted!" Swerve piped up. "Start the set!"

"No!" Tailgate huffed. "You embarrassed me!"

"My tongue slipped!" Swerve conspiratorially whispered into the microphone. "We can call the band 'Throw Swerve Under the Bus' instead."

Tailgate's head cocked. "I didn't know you were into buses."

The crowd whooped and oo-ed at Tailgate's first successful innuendo, and happy to get in a laugh at Swerve's expense, the little bot started up the count for their first song.

They were lucky to be on a ship full of Daft Punk fans. Or maybe all the bots that didn't like Daft Punk were at Visages, where the losers went to drink. Either way, for shuffling the set list, hearing "Get Lucky" first put the crowd in a good mood and started a little bit of a dance up in the front rows. Skids in particular got into a good grove with Swerve, locking optics with him and rocking side to side in time with the riffs, his hips moving to the same groove at Swerve's shoulders. Swerve had taken to singing to a face rather than the void of the audience. It worked well for Skids. It let him keep pace with the band. Kept his tempo in check, or however Cyclonus put it- oh! Speaking of Cyclonus...

He had to check. Rewind and Cyclonus stayed on the edge of the crowd, still and professional, cameramech and camera stand for lack of a better word... and then Daft Punk's verse came in and Swerve held up the microphone to Chromedome and Tailgate in the back. It was their special surprise, one that had been a pain to keep secret from the band's designated archivist and Tailgate's peripheral. It was worth it to suddenly hear Rewind squeal like a fangirl and Cyclonus's stony face crack into an unguarded genuine smile.

That night, they felt like rock stars. The set went long and Ultra Magnus had to break up the concert before they went on to the next morning. Later Skids would look over the footage and distantly realize that they looked ridiculous, with his homemade square guitar and Trailcutter big enough on his own to take up half the stage and yet hunched around a skinny stand-up bass and many, many other things. But being up there was something special, and it was that group of mechs that made it that way.

That was worth keeping up, wasn't it? He sure thought so, and it was all out of Swerve getting excited for something that, by all means, shouldn't have even been an idea in their heads at any point in their lives. Maybe there was a theme park out there for them. Skids wasn't sure. Maybe they'd made their own.


End file.
